


Mat Time

by sabinelagrande



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Clint Barton, Kink, M/M, Top Phil Coulson, Wrestling, takedown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A winner takes all wrestling match. Well, winner takes loser, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mat Time

"How is this so much heavier than it looks?" Clint said, lugging one of the wrestling mats into the living room.

"Why would you possibly think a wrestling mat would be light?" Phil said, helping him lay it down and roll it out beside the other mat.

"It's a foam mat," Clint said. "Foam is light. I thought this would be like carrying a futon mattress."

"I think you expected a landing pad," Phil said, adjusting the mats a final time. "And if you'd ever actually tried to carry a futon mattress, you'd see that this is way easier."

"Whatever you say," Clint said, peeling off his shirt and throwing it away, stretching showily before running a hand down his stomach. "Are we doing this or what?"

Phil had perfectly innocent reasons for owning wrestling mats. He was not about to use them for perfectly innocent reasons.

In a normal match, Phil wasn't actually sure who'd win between the two of them. Clint was a touch heavier, but Phil was better at grappling. Phil could hit hard out of the gate, but Clint had more endurance. Clint thought he knew how to fight dirty, but, well, Phil had Nick Fury for an SO. It would be close, but in the end, Clint would probably come out ahead. However, given that this fight was of the "winner tops" variety, Phil was ninety percent sure how it was going to end.

"Ground rules," Phil said. "No blood, no face shots."

"And no stopping," Clint added, grinning. This wasn't the time to chide Clint about his safeword; he knew he could use it and he knew Phil would stop him if it came to that, and belaboring the point right now would sort of ruin the mood.

"Sure you're ready?" Phil said, stepping into the center of the mat and setting his feet.

Clint looked like he might be about to answer; instead he jumped in and tried for a flying tackle. Phil had been waiting for it, and he ducked to the side just in time, leaving Clint to do a less than graceful little stumble thing when he hit a target that didn't exist.

"Told you you weren't ready," Phil said, grabbing Clint by his biceps and swinging him around, shoving him away.

"You never actually said that," Clint reminded him. "And I was just testing you."

"Testing what exact-" Phil started, and that time Clint got him; he feinted left, and when Phil fell for it, Clint took the opportunity to grab him from behind. "Oh, is that how it is?"

Clint ground against him, his cock hard against Phil's ass. "Yep, pretty much."

Phil dropped to one knee, twisting and throwing Clint off. "Think again," he said, hopping back up to his feet. Clint picked himself up, giving Phil a look. "Are we fighting here, or is this an exhibition match?"

Clint shook his head. "I'm just waiting on you."

"You really don't know how to play this game very well," Phil told him, not waiting until he'd finished speaking to charge at him. Clint caught him in time, and they wrestled, fighting back and forth for dominance. Phil wasn't quite interested in playing as dirty as he knew he could, but he didn't see any good reason not to dig his fingers into Clint's ass to distract him, to rake his nails down Clint's back just to make him hiss.

It was getting more difficult for Phil to hold on, because now they were both sweating, Clint's skin slick against his. It also wasn't helping that Phil's cock was rock hard, that Clint kept managing to get his thigh in the right place so that Phil couldn't help but grind against him. Clint wasn't exactly fighting dirty, but he certainly wasn't fighting _fair_.

The fight went on, only getting more intense; Phil wasn't sure now if Clint was really going to give up. Phil didn't have a real objection to Clint winning, but that sure as hell didn't mean he was going to throw the match and give Clint the satisfaction- he'd give Clint an entirely different kind of satisfaction, thanks, whether he won or lost.

It was subtle and quick, when Clint gave him the opening, but Phil was fast enough to take it. Clint tucked his head in time to keep from hitting it as Phil slammed him onto the mat, pinning him to the floor, his legs shoved apart with Phil between them. Clint struggled, but Phil held him tighter, keeping him firmly in place.

"Yield?" Phil said, but it wasn't really a question.

Despite his position, Clint grinned. "Guess you win."

Phil leaned down to kiss the smile off his face. "You wanted to lose," Phil accused.

"How did you ever guess?" Clint said, writhing in his grip.

Phil leaned down and bit his neck, sucking a mark onto his skin. "Call it a hunch," he said. "And now that I've got you, I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your life."

"Oh no, anything but that," Clint said melodramatically. "How will I cope?"

"I don't care," Phil said, grinding against him. "As long as I get to fuck you."

"You keep talking about it, and you keep not doing it," Clint told him.

"Don't worry about that," Phil said, letting him go only to pull Clint's legs up, tugging off his shorts and tossing them away. "All I want you to do is hold still and take it."

"We'll see how that works out for you," Clint said, deliberately squirming away as Phil reached for the lube.

Phil slapped him on the thigh. "You're the one who wants it so bad," he told him. He grabbed Clint's cock, squeezing it, and Clint made a noise of surprise. "Or do you want me to leave this alone? Because I have other things I can be doing."

"No, no, it's fine," Clint said breathlessly.

"Sure about that?" Phil said, stroking his cock a little roughly. "I don't really believe you can be perfectly good for me."

"If I was perfectly good, I wouldn't be interesting," Clint said.

"So true," Phil said, slicking up his fingers. He stretched Clint open slowly, making Clint wait while he took his sweet time.

"God," Clint groaned. "Today would be nice."

Phil pushed his fingers in deeper, his other hand on Clint's shoulder to hold him in place. "Beg me for it," he ordered, looming over him. "Go on. Ask me for what you want. Convince me."

"Fuck me," Clint said. "Please, just do it, fuck me."

"That was just sad," Phil said, stilling his fingers. "Honestly, do you even want it? Because that was a pathetic attempt right there."

"Please," he begged. "Please, I'll give you what you want, just fuck me."

"And what is it that you think I want?" Phil asked, moving his fingers slowly.

Clint huffed a laugh. "If it's not your cock in my ass, you better get your fingers out of me."

"I'm still not hearing what I want to hear," Phil said stubbornly.

Clint pushed down on his fingers, trying to get more. "I've been thinking about it for so long," he said. "I want you to fuck me so bad, I can't stand it, I can't stop thinking about how good it's going to feel when you stretch me out with your cock and fuck me so hard that I-"

"Okay, okay, yes, good begging," Phil said, pushing down his shorts and getting his cock free. "Great begging. Now hold on."

"Yeah, come on and do it," Clint said, arching his back as Phil finally started to push into him, kissing him hard as he thrust inside, inch by inch until he was all the way in. Clint moaned, rolling his hips as he adjusted to the feeling of it. "Jesus, that's so fucking good."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Phil said, kissing him as he started to move in and out. He'd had these great ideas about taking Clint ever so slowly, drawing it all out, but that seemed ridiculous now that were actually here, where he could just hold Clint down and drive into him over and over.

"Harder," Clint groaned, straining up towards him. "Fucking do it harder, stop fucking around-"

"You get what I say you get," Phil said, shoving him back down and pushing in deeper. "Shut up and take my cock."

"Can do," Clint said, moaning as Phil hit just the right spot.

"Can't wait to see you come for me," Phil said through his teeth. "Gonna see you come all over yourself."

"Keep doing that and you won't have to wait long," Clint told him.

"I'll wait as long as I like," Phil said, "and you'll take every second of it, won't you?"

"God, yes," Clint moaned. "Please just fuck me, I need you so fucking bad."

"That's what I thought," Phil said, biting Clint's neck, sucking hard on his skin.

Phil just kept fucking him and fucking him, until Clint was a total mess, covered in sweat, completely gone on it. "Please let me come," Clint whined. "Please, I'll do anything, just let me get off."

Phil reached between them, stroking Clint's cock quick and rough. "No," he said, and Clint bit his lip to keep in the sound he made, almost like a sob. "Not until I say. Not until I do." Phil gasped as Clint clenched down on him, tightening around his cock. "Oh, that's not fucking fair."

"You said I could do it when you did," Clint told him. "Be more specific."

"Be ready," Phil said. "I'm almost there."

"Yes, sir," Clint said, thrusting his hips up to meet him. "Come on, come in me, I want it so much."

Phil dragged him closer, his fingers tight enough on Clint's hips to hurt. He pushed in harder, trying to draw it out for as long as possible. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of this, enough of Clint. He wanted everything, anything Clint would give him, and he knew Clint wanted it too, wanted to give it all up for him.

"Now," Phil said quickly. "Do it now, come with me."

Clint moaned as his orgasm hit him, calling Phil's name, and that was what sent Phil over. He put his head on Clint's shoulder, shutting his eyes tight, overcome by it all. He wasn't even finished when Clint cupped his face with both hands, pulling him up to kiss him over and over, until Phil felt lightheaded and a little tempted to go all over again.

Phil did give out eventually, his arms too shaky to support him anymore. Phil didn't quite collapse onto Clint, managing to roll to the side and stretch out beside him; Clint nudged him until Phil put his arm out, letting Clint use it as a pillow.

"Fuck, that was good," Clint sighed, and Phil made a vague noise of assent, cuddling closer to him. Clint looked around, frowning. "One problem, though."

Phil turned his head, looking at Clint. "Hmm?"

"We have to put these damn mats up," Clint said.

Phil considered this for a moment. "Eh, fuck it," he said. "I don't see any reason to rush." He stretched, grimacing; he'd have some interesting bruises tomorrow, but it had been completely worth it. "Also I'm not sure I could actually lift one right now."

"Fuck it, then," Clint said, curling up against Phil's side and throwing an arm over Phil's stomach.

Phil yawned. "We're gonna regret it if we fall asleep here."

"I notice you're not moving," Clint said, making no attempt himself.

"Let me revise that," Phil said. "We're gonna regret it when we wake up here."

"Sacrifices must be made," Clint said.

"For the good of not having to get up and clean when we could be naked and lazy?" Phil asked.

"Exactly," Clint said, nodding.

"I think that's a perfectly worthy cause," Phil said, kissing him on the top of the head.

"Knew you'd see it my way," Clint said approvingly, and Phil snorted, shutting his eyes.

When Phil woke up, he didn't regret it nearly as much as he thought he would.


End file.
